


Salva

by fab_fan



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Autumn, Can we get our girls a therapist, Canon Compliant, F/F, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Introspection, Light Angst, Not Happy, One Shot, Post-Season/Series 01, Raelle is a sad little cutie who needs a hug, Random & Short, Same with Tally and Abigail, Scylla is mentioned but doesn't actually show up, Short, The Author Regrets Everything, thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27598555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fab_fan/pseuds/fab_fan
Summary: With another breath, she pulled out the small tin container.Government issue salva.She almost snorted at the label.Her lashes lowered as she stared at the box precariously perched between her fingertips.No one knew.
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Comments: 24
Kudos: 54





	Salva

**Author's Note:**

> Let's buckle up for some fun!
> 
> (Psst, as the tags said, this takes place after Season 1. FYI. Oh, and Raelle has no idea about Willa or Scylla beyond what she knew before heading off to China on Alder's wild mission of doom.)

The world was without color.

Grey and bleak, storm clouds crept in like phantom shadows, a light drizzle of cold autumn rain spilling across the land like the frigid tears of an unseen goddess. Each droplet seemed to erase whatever it touched, the once vibrant green of the grass turning brown and sickly with mud. The leaves of the trees, colorful and fiery in a brilliant mixture of stark reds and oranges, fell from the looming weeping branches to leave the hardened bark bitter and bare. Flowers wilted and decayed, no longer able to withstand the chilling turn. Petals fluttered away in one last attempt to protect themselves but, eventually, succumbed to the wind and the rain to plummet gracelessly to the earth and be lost in the sticky sludge that consumed everything it touched, overpowering all in sight alongside tiny rivers and lakes that threatened to form in the paved roads and dug out training fields. The ponds overflowed to erode the silt and take back the earth as their own.The rain turned to tiny pellets, frozen and violent as they descended, miniature bullets ricocheting off brick and mortar alike - tap tap tapping a steady unrelenting rhythm. 

Most soldiers stayed inside. Fort Salem was quiet. Solemn. Training was done for the day and all those with a sense of self-preservation tucked themselves away in their rooms to play cards or chat with friends. War College students looked over notes and exchanged gossip about the instructors. They barely cast a glance out the water streaked windows at the washing away of life happening just beyond the glass. The slow destruction of Mother Nature. Her surrender to Father Time and the oncoming gale of winter. Autumn taking one final gasp as it died, unseen and unacknowledged in its dwindling moments.

As the wind picked up and the trees swayed ominously, Raelle Collar stood beneath the tall oak tree. Once magnificent, it’s empty branches did little to cover her from the elements. It was no longer a safe cocoon that hid her and her secrets, her love, her everything from the world. A place she could go to dream and think and feel without worry.

A place she could curl up in the arms of a lover and exchange murmured words of desire and want. Share kisses filled with care and trust.

A place she could huddle, emotions strong, overwhelming, rattling, unable to not be in love even though every speck of her cracked and shattering senses told her she shouldn’t be. 

But, it was real.

It had been _real_.

Right?

_“She loves you. That part’s real.”_

Water dripped down her cheeks from her soaked hair. Blonde locks grew darker as the skies opened even further. 

She stared out into the distance.

She didn’t see anything.

Not the trucks parked near the entrance to the infirmary.

Not the far off glow of her barracks.

Not the lamplit room where Tally and Abigail were casually resting, a curious concerned spark in their shared gaze as they silently asked the other where their sister was.

Raelle was meant to meet them. Grab dinner. Catch up. Life was hectic with Tally becoming unbiddied, War College courses, and keeping secret how two soldiers left for dead, one mortally wounded, survived. Keeping secret...that assumed either of them even knew.

Raelle had no idea what happened, and she refused to drag Abigail into anything.

She kept her mouth shut.

She’d learned what happened when anyone spoke around the officers.

Anyone about anything.

Dull blue eyes flicked down to her hands. She watched as her knuckles turned white and her fingers curled tighter into a fist. The rain glistened on her reddened skin. Like diamonds. Shards of broken glass. Tiny worlds of water that beckoned her to forget.

To let it all go.

Chest shaking, she inhaled deeply, not blinking. Her hand flexed. She could feel a slight prickle of pain as she squeezed tighter and tighter.

It was all she could feel. All she had felt for so long.

Pain.

She sniffed, shoulder automatically rising to wipe at her face. It merely rubbed the diluted dirty water further into her eyes and over her nose and chin.

It was a question whether it was even rain at all.

Maybe it was tears.

Tears she never knew she cried. Never knew she let fall.

It had been so long since she let herself cry.

How long had it been?

Did it matter?

Jaw locking, she carefully, slowly, methodically, let her hand unfurl. Her fingers came into view little by little, a lone droplet hanging from the tip of her index finger, clinging for a breath before it could no longer hold on and fell to smash into the soggy soil coating her boots and staining the bottom of her trousers.

Trembling imperceptibly, those fingers slid to her pocket and nudged inside.

Her chest ached and blossomed as she felt the tiny box nestled in the crease.

With another breath, she pulled out the small tin container. 

Government issue salva.

She almost snorted at the label.

Her lashes lowered as she stared at the box precariously perched between her fingertips.

No one knew.

At least, no one said anything.

How she disappeared from time to time.

How she would sometimes have a glazed look in her eyes.

How she didn’t talk about some things.

Things like what happened in China.

Things like how she had a scar on her chest and back that burned. Twin scars that should mean she was with the rest of the Collar line. Not at Fort Salem. Not standing in the rain. Not alive.

Things like how the darkness she once almost conquered now hovered around her, inside of her, until she imagined her eyes were black and her hair the color of midnight. Until she was swallowed whole.

How she could be in a room full of soldiers and feel like she was the only one there.

Her hands itched to fix, but nothing she did could patch up the cracks in her own soul. 

Could not heal all the hurt she caused. All the hurt inside of her. All the hurt she hid away from everyone else behind a sly remark and a rakish grin. A grumpy frown and a hardened glare.

A hurt she might be drowning in, far deeper and endless than the ocean could ever hope to be.

Couldn’t heal the pain her friends had been inflicted with. Bring back Tally’s innocence. Abigail’s pure belief.

Couldn’t bring back a necro with a penchant for holding hands and stealing kisses.

Throat bobbing and tongue clicking against the back of her teeth, Raelle ignored the water dripping into her eyes and the weight on her shoulders that pushed down so hard it was a wonder her knees didn’t buckle.

_“It’s salva. Government issue.”_

Her throat threatened to close as the words trickled into her mind, and her stomach swirled and gnawed like a ravenous monster battling a hurricane, causing her to beat back the bile and sobs scorching their way through her. She pressed her lips together, and the pads of her fingers pushed harder against the edges of the box.

She was stupid.

So stupid.

But, she couldn’t help it.

She couldn’t stop.

Everything was so messed up.

She couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Any of it.

The feel of the dirt and sand as it kicked up, blinding her and leaving a trail of grit in her mouth as she raced to protect the Tarim from the Camarilla.

The smell of smoke and the heat of fire that she could feel even from a distance.

The feel of the knife sliding into her from behind. The sickening squelching sound it made as it was ripped out.

The feel of her own blood, slick and red, as it coated her hand.

The face of her dad as they learned her mama was not coming home.

The face he made when Raelle told him she was being deployed.

The voice of her mama as she said goodbye one last time. Different from all the others. The last thing she ever said to Raelle.

Tally, wrinkled and worn, sacrificing her youth for a leader who did not care if they lived or died. 

Abigail as the life drained from her. Because of Raelle. Because she refused to leave Raelle behind.

Anacostia’s voice, her eyes, as she told Raelle that Scylla only told her what she wanted to hear. 

The blonde bit her lip.

Scylla’s face as she grinned at her, the glow of the moon and stars dancing in her hair and illuminating her face as they rose into the cradle of the heavens for the first time.

The way Scylla would kiss her. Softly. Hungrily. Needing, wanting, taking, giving.

Loving.

Waking up to the brunette wrapped in her arms. Asleep. Peaceful. Unburdened.

Home.

The way their hands fit together. Their eyes would meet and entire conversations could be had in the twitch of an eyebrow or flicker of a mouth.

Scylla.

Scylla. Scylla. Scylla.

The girl who lied to her.

Told her she loved her.

Used her.

Raelle closed her eyes, the box flipping into her palm.

Scylla, who she still loved. Still wanted. Who she couldn’t get out of her head.

Whose face haunted her dreams.

Whose voice called for her. Begged. Pleaded. 

Who Raelle walked away from.

Left behind in that basement.

Who was carted off to prison while Raelle packed her gear and pinned her combat charm to her chest.

Raelle exhaled harshly.

It was so much.

She could hear the screams of those burning at the stake.

Could see the fear in the Tarim boy’s eyes.

Watched as the helicopter flew far overhead, leaving them to die surrounded by blood and gore in a far away land.

Tally’s aged wheezed.

Abigail’s strained croak.

She wanted it to stop.

Wanted to be able to breathe without feeling fire in her lungs. Sleep without screaming herself awake. Look at her friends without wondering who would die next because they knew her.

Everyone she loved died.

Her aunt.

Her mama.

Scylla.

Scylla was as good as dead in that prison.

_“They’re shipping me off to die.”_

Raelle opened her eyes and thumbed the box open.

Scylla.

The only person she could truly talk to about anything. Who made it feel like she was ok. Like she could live and breathe and sleep and survive. The woman who made her smile and laugh and _try_.

Made her want to live. 

To believe.

To see a future.

That woman was gone.

Scylla was gone.

Now, all Raelle had were deployments and a War College spot she didn’t want. Didn’t know what to do with. How to act in.

Friends who she couldn’t tell about her dreams. Her nightmares. Her memories. Her fears. 

That she was scared for them. Wanted to protect the only family she had left. 

About how she yearned for a woman who hurt her. Lied to her. Made her trust her. 

How she couldn’t stop loving Scylla no matter what she did. 

How she needed her.

Needed to feel her hand rubbing her back as arms held her close. 

Needed...needed...needed...

Her finger dipped into the box. A patch stuck, and she lifted it out.

In a heartbeat, she touched the star to her skin. It dissolved quickly in the tiny space behind her ear.

Her eyes changed.

The feeling coursed through her like a wave, bold and inescapable.

Light.

She felt so light.

Warmth flooded her senses.

God, it felt good.

It felt so good.

The shackles fell away. 

She began to float. 

Raising her head toward the clouds, all the cruelty of life cast away as she soared into the sky; she felt her heart fill and her nerves alight.

She could see smirking blue eyes and a mischievously seductive smirk. Tousled dark locks and a hand outstretched toward her.

 _Scylla_.

Surrounded by the colors of the glowing spring sky.

She reached out, stretching to touch the ghost. The mirage. The memory.

To feel her lover.

Feel as she wrapped her arms around her.

The breath against her ear as a nose nuzzled her throat.

Whispers and whimpers, gasps and groans.

Lips against her cheek, her hair, her mouth.

_“I like you.”_

_“I have feelings for you.”_

_“I love you.”_

_“I still love you.”_

Scylla’s hand barely missed her own. She was so close.

So close.

_“I fell for you. I promise.”_

_“We’ll run away and live on the beach.”_

_“Get through the wedding, and we’ll go somewhere safe.”_

_“This is an inspection.”_

_“I’m Scylla.”_

Raelle didn’t hear the rustling of the leaves or feel the wind roar against her.

She felt soft lips brush against her mouth.

The stroke of an affectionate hand against her cheek.

She was with her girlfriend once more.

She was with Scylla again.

_“I want to show you something beautiful.”_

The rain continued to fall, and the nightmares were swept away in the torrent, leaving nothing behind except the sparking euphoric warmth burning in Raelle’s veins and the memory enveloping her in a comforting loving embrace.

For a brief moment, she felt ok.

She felt safe.

She was alive.

Alive.

Happy.

In love.

Protected.

Understood.

Loved.

That is, until the salva wore off.

Until the euphoria disappeared. Evaporated.

The fire extinguished.

And she fell.

Plummeted.

Fell and fell until her body slammed into the cold hard ground, sending mud flying into her face and her head snapping back as teeth cut the inside of her cheek and blood filled her mouth.

Spitting and coughing, ice replaced the blood in her body, and she shivered as Scylla slipped away.

Was gone.

Never truly there.

A lie.

Raelle groaned, a guttural desperate sound ripped straight from the back of her throat. Her eyes burned and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her entire body screamed in agony. Her mind cried out for something...anything.

It all came rushing back.

The real world.

A world where Scylla wasn’t there. Where Raelle was nothing. Alone. Where the nightmares reigned and her loneliness and grief ached like a silent spectre everywhere she went, a wandering companion who crawled in her bed and dwelt in the doors and corners of every room she entered.

A world where she was cold. Tired.

Where she didn’t feel safe.

Where everything she did was wrong. Ended with someone hurt or worse.

A world she had no place in. Had no idea where she fit.

A world that wasn’t her own.

That wasn’t the one she chose to live in, believe in, put aside her plan to die young on the front lines in.

This was a world where she kept her secrets. Didn’t tell anyone what she was doing. What she was feeling or thinking. About the explosion that kept her and Abigail alive. About how empty she felt. An emptiness that had slowly filled her since she left Scylla alone in that basement. No, since she left her alone at the wedding. That had been there when the army told her that her mama wasn’t coming home and only abated for the briefest of moments when Scylla smiled at her and kissed her. Held her. Touched her. Listened and spoke and was _with_ her. A world where she closed herself off to any attempt to connect because, how could she connect with anyone when she couldn’t even look at herself in the mirror? When the woman she loved was gone, Raelle’s last words to her biting and cruel and full of so much anger and heartache? When Raelle couldn’t put into words what was wrong, only that so much was? 

That Raelle couldn’t talk about the emotions raging inside of her.

Locked herself up and threw away the key.

Stewed in the regret. The guilt. The self-blame. The rage. The sadness. The hopelessness.

The blonde mentally shook those thoughts away.

Jamming her hands into the dirt, Raelle clumsily crawled to her feet. 

She would need to shower.

Change.

She spat out a mouthful of blood and felt bruises forming along her arms and stomach. The inside of her mouth stung, and her head buzzed.

Maybe she’d ask her neighbor to fix her up a bit in exchange for a candy bar she’d snagged from the commissary.

Then, find Tally and Abigail.

Pretend she hadn’t done it again.

That she wouldn’t do this a few nights from now.

Hadn’t done it since basic, when she was chosen to be the first cadet to try salva during training and saw her lover. Saw her for the first time since the wedding. Since she stole enough salva to get her to the beach. Since she did everything in her power to find Scylla.

That she didn’t search in a tiny tin box and see-through patches that made her able to fly for the one person who made her feel better. Longed for a moment where she wasn’t Pvt. Raelle Collar, but, instead, was only a girl from the Cession in love with a beautiful brunette who made her heart skip and teased her with kisses before the blonde’s friends, happy and healthy and without the horrors of war and betrayal etched in their features, joined them. A few heartbeats where she was floating in the evening sky with the gorgeous girl who lured her in with a wink and a promise. Who made her fall in love. Made her want things. Things she was never meant to have.

Things she still wanted.

All she wanted was a second where her jumbled mind was clear. Everything gone except the feeling of happiness that only occurred when Scylla Ramshorn looked at her like she was worth something. Like Raelle wasn’t alone. Like she understood. 

Like they both felt the love between them.

Like they hadn’t betrayed each other.

Hurt each other.

Broke each other.

Rubbing stiffly at the clumps of mud and grass stuck to her shoulder, Raelle spun around, prepared to trudge back to her barracks. To put a smile on her face and banish the grimness from her gaze for a few hours. Not let anyone know how her broken heart refused to heal. Act as if she was fine. That she wasn’t gripping the last reminder, the last escape, she had left. 

That she wasn’t using salva to see the woman she walked away from because it was the only choice she had left. The only chance she had left.

Taking a step, Raelle looked up from her ruined uniform.

Anacostia Quartermaine stood a few yards away, arms crossed and serious eyes firmly on the young soldier, mouth a thin line, face blank, civilian style clothes plastered to her strong lean frame.

Raelle froze.

Their eyes met.

The box felt like a boulder in Raelle’s pocket.

The breath left her lungs and her chest tightened.

The rain continued to fall.

Anacostia had seen everything.

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone notice the four times we've seen Raelle take salva on screen, it involves Scylla in some way? First time with salva - Scylla gave it to her. Second time - she 'saw' Scylla during the training session. Third time - she was off to find Scylla at the beach. Fourth time - citydrop jump and she saw fake!scylla. Just saying, it might be a thing.
> 
> Alright folks, hope you enjoyed this. Kudos and comments are always appreciated. I adore all of you who take the time to read, but you get double the cookies for kudos and triple the cookies for comments!


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